Resistance
by michellemtsu
Summary: One shot set between Miss Mystic Falls and Blood Brothers. Rated M for some mild language.


**Author's note:** This is just a little oneshot I cooked up, set between Miss Mystic Falls and Blood Brothers. It was partially inspired by my dear friend, cinjudes. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, they don't belong to me. Can I borrow Damon? ;-)

It was nearly dawn. Damon could feel the sunrise approaching. Emily's magic ring couldn't remove the vampire's instinctive feel for the rising sun. Damon knew that in a matter of minutes the sun would creep over the horizon in all its deadly glory. Well, deadly to most vampires anyway. If there was one thing he was grateful to Emily for, it was his ring. It made blending in with the humans that much easier.

What _wasn't_ making blending in easier was his out-of-control-snacking-on-the-locals little brother. If he'd have known that Stefan was going to react like this, he'd have never left that glass of blood lying around. Well, now that was a lie. In different circumstances, Damon would have relished bringing Stefan back to his vampiric roots. He honestly couldn't understand why Stefan was so hellbent on being the scourge of the animal kingdom. But these weren't ideal circumstances. Stefan had ties to this godforsaken town. He tied to _fit in._ He even went to high school, for Christ's sake! And the reason Stefan went to all this trouble sat across him. Elena's eyes were closed; she was just on the edge of sleep. They had been sitting outside of Stefan's cell for hours now. They hadn't spoken since Damon had taken his seat across from her, which was just fine with Damon. He didn't really want to analyze why he was there at all, especially when he didn't know himself.

Damon stood and peaked into the cell. Stefan was stretched out on the cot. He was completely still. Stefan wasn't asleep, but Damon didn't want to interrupt what was sure to be the father and mother of all broods. They weren't doing Stefan any good by sitting outside of his cell while he tormented himself.

Damon bent down and gently shook Elena's shoulder. "Elena, wake up," he said softly.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" she replied, groggily.

"Nothing. But you shouldn't sleep down here; that floor is hard as a rock."

Elena put her hand on Damon's arm. "I can't leave him. Stefan needs me."

"Elena, you're not going to do him any good if you exhaust yourself. We've been down here for hours. It's been a very, _very_ long day. You need to sleep. Believe me, Stefan's not going any where," Damon said reasonably.

Elena looked like she wanted to argue for a second, but then thought better of it. "Alright, but I'm not going home."

"Fine. We'll put you in Stefan's room."

"OK." Elena started to get up, but gave a small yelp of surprise as Damon picked her up and sped out of the dark dungeon. Elena instinctively threw her arms around his neck to steady herself. She needn't have bothered, of course. They were upstairs before she'd drawn three breaths. Elena glared at Damon as he put her down.

"I _can_ walk, you know," she said accusingly.

Damon grinned at her. "I know, but this way's faster. Now it's time for good little girls to get their beauty sleep."

Elena rolled her eyes as she climbed into Stefan's bed. "I'm not a little girl either," she muttered.

A vision of Elena in that blue dress flashed in Damon's mind. _No, you certainly are not_, he thought as he left the room and closed the door softly behind him.

_I need a drink._

Downstairs, Damon poured himself a glass of whiskey and stared into the fire. What the hell was going on with him? His brother was locked up in the basement trying to get back on his disgusting Fluffy diet. He, Damon, was at Sheriff Forbes' beck and call. Even worse, he was bagging it instead of hunting. These things made a kind of sense when he was trying to get Katherine out of the tomb. Getting the idiotic town council off the scent was essential back then. But why continue? And why was Damon still in Mystic Falls anyway? He'd come back for Katherine. But she wasn't in the tomb and never had been. Now Johnathon Gilbert was making it increasingly difficult for Damon to keep his secret. All of Damon's instincts were telling him to cut his losses and take off. It was what he always did. But, as he stared into the flames, Damon knew he couldn't. He was beginning to suspect the reason why was sleeping upstairs. In his brother's bed. Damon downed the contents of the glass and sighed. When did his life get so fucked up?

"Elena, come on. It's nearly time," said Caroline nervously.

"I'm coming, just give me a sec," Elena replied as she smoothed down her electric blue gown once more. As she stared into the mirror, Elena hardly recognized her own reflection. Her usually straight hair was curled artfully around her face; her make up was perfect. It was more than that though. Elena _felt_ different. She felt older, more grown up. And more at peace than she'd been since her parents' deaths. Elena dearly wished her mother could be here to see this day.

"Elena!" Caroline called again.

"OK, OK, I'm coming." Elena walked out of the room and met a very nervous, yet excited, Caroline on the landing. Her friend was stunning in a green gown and 1930s hairdo. "Wow, Caroline," Elena said. "You look great."

Caroline grinned. "So do you. Now I know you've got this in the bag, and I just wanted you to know that I'm ok with that."

Elena rolled her eyes. "No way. You're going to get it, and I honestly don't care. I can't think of anyone that deserves this more than you."

Caroline opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Lockwood beckoned her to the stairs. Caroline squared her shoulders and walked gracefully to the head of the stairs. Elena took her place as Caroline descended the staircase, where she was met by a grinning Matt. They really were a great couple and Elena couldn't be happier for them. But she could only bask in her friends' happiness for a second before her own name was called.

"Miss Elena Gilbert escorted by Mr. Damon Salvatore."

Elena looked down and sure enough, there was Damon, looking especially fine in his dark formal suit. Elena kept a tight grip on the handrail as she descended the stairs. She couldn't see anything aside from Damon's captivating blue eyes. His face remained impassive, but Elena could see the mirth inside his eyes. To play the dashing gentleman right under her Uncle John's nose was Damon's favorite game. Elena mentally rolled her eyes; she just wanted to get through this pageant in one piece. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, Damon took her hand and led her out to the balcony-turned-dance-floor. Elena could feel the eyes on them as they passed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jenna and Alaric exchange worried glances.

As she and Damon took their positions, she whispered, "What's up with them?"

Damon bowed toward her and said softly, "They're just jealous of your hot date."

Elena suppressed a smile as the dance began. Mrs. Lockwood had been furious when Damon flat out refused to attend practice a few days before. He, after all, had been around when this dance had been invented, not that he could say so. Stefan had graciously offered to take his place. Considering everything that had happened, Elena was surprised, but happy, at Stefan's offer. In spite of everything, she _did_ still care about him and knew what it must have cost him to take Damon's place.

Any thought of Stefan flew out of Elena's head as she and Damon stalked around each other, their hands together but not quite touching. _Mrs. Lockwood was right_, Elena thought. She could practically feel the electricity jump across the inch of empty space between her hand and Damon's. His eyes never left her as they danced; the music and other sounds fell away, until there was no one in the room except Elena and Damon. A smile played on Elena's lips as Damon took her in his arms and they began to waltz around the room. He smiled back at her and Elena knew it was one of those moments that would never come again. She was dancing with the man she loved—

Elena woke up, gasping for breath. What the _hell_ was that? She screwed her eyes shut trying to hold on to the details of the nightmare, but they were slipping. It had to be a nightmare, right? Miss Mystic Falls. The blue dress. The dance. With Damon. Wait, that actually happened. This was different. What was it? What had woken her? Damon, it had to be. She looked about the dimly lit room, but it was empty except for her. She was alone. What was it about Damon? She struggled to remember. Her eyes widened in horror. In her dream, she's been in love with Damon, not Stefan. No, that couldn't be right, could it? She, Elena, was in love with Stefan. If there was one thing she was sure about in all the vampire craziness, it was that she was in love with Stefan. That was her anchor; it kept her sane. Everything she'd done over the past few months she'd done out of love for Stefan.

_That's not entirely true,_ a voice reminded her.

When she'd pleaded with Lexi's boyfriend for Damon's life, Stefan was the furthest thing from her mind. Yes, Damon was Stefan's brother and Elena had no doubt that Stefan loved him, in spite of everything. But she didn't beg for Damon's life on Stefan's behalf. She'd done it for her own. She couldn't imagine a world without Damon in it. For as much as he annoyed her and as amoral as he was, he'd wormed his way in somehow. He was her friend. He trusted her in a way that Stefan didn't, if she was being completely honest with herself, and she liked that about him. But that didn't mean she _loved_ him, did it?

She shook her head violently. No, it didn't. She was being silly. _It was just a dream, Elena._

Elena got out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. Hopefully, a shower would clear her head. Then she needed to check on Stefan.

Damon heard the shower turn on upstairs. He'd heard Elena wake up a few minutes earlier, her heart hammering in her chest. He fought the urge to go check on her. _You don't care about her, remember?_ He reminded himself sternly. _She belongs to Stefan._ The thought would have made him sick to his stomach if he was still capable of it, but he wasn't. Instead, Damon poured himself another drink and stared into the dying embers of the fire, silently cursing the day he'd returned to Mystic Falls.

FINIS


End file.
